The Sandcastle King
by kurgaya
Summary: AU Ichigo's eight, loud, and his dream at the moment is to build a sandcastle. Toshiro's six, quiet, and his most prized possession is a little red whistle. What do they have in common? Nothing. But sometimes... nothing matters. No slash.


**Yep, yep, this is another oneshot. I wrote the plan for this on saturday but didn't have any inspiration so I carried an A4 notepad around with me for three days and - frustration, frustration, frustration - this is the result! The beginning idea for this came to me a while back but I was busy working on Sightless Seeking at the time so I didn't write it.**

**Oh yeah, and you've probably noticed I've started spelling Toshiro in a different way. Well... yeah. I want to get into the habit of spelling it this way :D No particular reason.**

**I hope you like it and I'll read feedback in the morning because *yawn* I really should be in bed and I have school tomorrow. Joy.**

* * *

Worn down sneakers landed rudely on the concrete platform and the small, plump football of a bird squawked in fright and flew up past the orange haired owner of the shoes and through the thick grey smoke that tumbled from cars and buses and disappeared like a balloon into the sky. The sunlight poured down onto the station as one Ichigo Kurosaki ran around, arms flapping, mimicking the cries of the terrified birds around him. He was only eight, so you can't really blame him, and Masaki laughed softly at her son's actions as she stepped off the train, a brown haired toddler clapping her hands together in her arms.

"Now now Ichigo," she called to him. "Stop scaring the birds."

"I'm not scaring them," Ichigo argued, but nevertheless he stopped loyally in front of him mother. "I just want to fly – like them!"

"Well then one day you will," Masaki said, and Yuzu giggled.

Chocolate eyes lit up in excitement. "Really? Cool! Hear that birds?" the child asked, running off. "One day I'm gonna fly!"

"I don't remember ever being like that," said a gruff voice, and Masaki smiled at her husband.

"That's because you're old dear."

"I'm not old!" cried Isshin, however his beard told otherwise. "Did you hear that Karin? Mummy says I'm old!"

The raven haired child standing beside her father smiled. "Mummy's right," she said simply, for being three years old words were a bit of a challenge.

"No!" the man yelled dramatically, bringing his arm up over his eyes to hide the pretend tears. "My own daughter has turned against me!"

Ichigo's distant voice cut through the rest of his ramblings. "Come on old man!" he shouted, waving his arms from the other side of the station. "The beach is this way!"

Masaki turned away from her bawling husband and walked slowly over towards her son, Karin plodding along behind. "Slow down Ichigo! There's a road there!"

"Yeah," the boy answered, his impatient brain blocking out his mother's warnings. "Come on! Hurry up!" He waited no longer and sped off like a shark to blood around the corner. He ran along the path, whizzing in and out of people towering over him and stepped out into the road at the crossing. There was a thunderous 'honk' from a passing lorry and a small, cold hand grasped Ichigo's, tugging him out of the way.

Nobody seemed to notice the accident that almost took place, and Ichigo rubbed the back of his head shamefully as the shock started to kick in. "Um… Thanks…" he said, intending to look up at the person who had just saved his life, but ended up looking down instead.

The boy looked no older than six. His hair was as white as snow. His hand was just as cold. His wide eyes were teal, and gazing up at Ichigo carefully.

"Thanks," the accident-waiting-to-happen-boy said again. The other boy let go of his hand in response and put the minute read whistle that hung around his neck in his mouth. He blew softly once, and then maundered away without a word.

Now if Ichigo had been older and more mature he would probably have been worried at the silent display from the young child, but he wasn't, and his mind quickly focused on more important things: like getting to the beach. He spun around on the spot and noticed that someone had already pressed the button for the traffic lights. Dark haired and grinning his father ruffled his hair in a fatherly manner.

"I'm surprised you're not already in the sea Ichigo," he said, shifting the weight of the bulky backpack on his back to a better position.

"I'm not going in the sea!" argued the child, stomping his foot on the ground as if to emphasis his defiance. "I'm gonna build a sandcastle!"

The clockwork cycle of the cars came to a halt and the Kurosakis crossed the road under the protection of the traffic lights. Once they were across Masaki took the lead (because you can't trust a man with organising something) and Isshin and Ichigo followed behind the girls like the humble puppies they were.

"A sandcastle?" Isshin asked his son. "And why do you want – "

"Sand!" Ichigo yelled when he felt the hard path melt away into fine grains of sand, and he zoomed off across the mini desert happily.

Isshin chuckled. "I'll never understand that boy."

Masaki giggled from in front.

* * *

It didn't take long for the family to set down their array of multi coloured towels in the middle of the beach, and it was perfect because there weren't too many people around. Within minutes Yuzu and Karin were running around the polka-dot umbrella they had brought with them, screaming with delight, and Ichigo was rummaging through the bag looking for the bucket and spade that was packed.

He would ask his mum for help but…

Ichigo looked over his shoulder towards the gentle sea behind him. His dad had dragged his mum into the water squealing – though Ichigo wasn't sure which one of them was – and they were now playing and splashing around like love-struck teenagers.

Not that Ichigo knew what that was like.

There was no need to disturb them though: when mum was happy, they were all happy. The light blue of the spade grabbed his attention and he pulled it out of the bag, the objects lying on top of it falling all over the place like rain. But he didn't care because he had his spade and he jumped to his feet with his endless energy.

"Ichi-nii! Ichi-nii!"

"Onii-chan!"

Ichigo scooped up the bucket with his free hand and braced himself as his two sisters crashed into him. He grunted, his imitation of a brick wall ruined, and his two joyful sisters seized his shirt's sleeves and squealed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Football!" Karin said, her favourite word flying freely from her lips. "Football! Football!"

"It's in the bag Karin."

"Football! Play, Ichi-nii!"

Ichigo almost frowned at his little sister, but his eyes caught the puppy-dog look Yuzu was giving him and something inside of him twinged. "Fine," he huffed. "But I –"

"Yay!" screamed the twins, and they dragged their brother over to where the chequered ball was sitting. "Football, football, football!"

There really was nothing he could do (Yuzu was a devil) so Ichigo set down the bucket and spade and kicked the ball into the air. Karin and Yuzu cheered.

* * *

It was quieter on this part of the beach, though the reason for that could be because he was away from his _stupid noisy sisters_. They had played football until their mum and dad had climbed rather ungracefully out of the sea and distracted the girls long enough for Ichigo to grab the bucket and spade and make a quick get away.

Thank you, Ichigo said in his head, for as much as he loved his sisters, he really wanted to build a sandcastle. That was the whole reason he was here! He was gonna sit down and work and work and work until he built a huge sandcastle that would tower over everything and he could sit on the top and throw stones down at anybody (his sisters) who dared try to take the treasure from inside.

Maybe he could hide a dragon inside! It would have a spiky back and bright, scary eyes and would roar at anybody who disturbed it.

Now all he had to do was build the castle and find the dragon…

Orange hair bobbed down in a nod. Ichigo dropped the spade and swung the bucket high as he jogged over to where the sea was eating the sand, making sure he was careful not to slip on any of the slippery stones or slid on any of the shiny shells. He set down to work on collecting stones and shells to decorate his castle, because a castle made just of sand was a bit boring. The perfect stone that he needed was…

"Not too big and not too small," said Ichigo, his back bent to peer down at the stones and shells as the waves lapped at his feet. "And not too spiky and not too smooth." He picked up random stones one by one and when it didn't fit his description he threw it carelessly into the hungry ocean. His eyes locked on a red shell so he went down to pick it up.

It moved.

He screamed.

Almost tripping over the bucket, Ichigo jumped backwards, hoping from one foot to the other to avoid the moving shell. "And not a crab! And not a crab! Bad crab! Bad crab!" He edged away until he knew the crab had no desire to follow him, but he wouldn't know anyway because the crab looked a lot like a shell and there were a lot of shells scattered around.

"Phew," Ichigo said, his hands on his knees as the fear faded away. "Oh no! My bucket!" He had left it by the crab! His head shot up to see what fate had befallen his bucket –

It was gone.

Ichigo almost cried. "It ate my bucket!" he whined, not noticing the young boy standing behind him with the yellow bucket firmly in his grasp. "My poor bucket! Mean crab! Oh I'm gonna –"

Toot.

Ichigo spun around, almost slipping on the slippery stones.

Teal eyes blinked at him.

"I – It's you!" cried Ichigo, pointing an accusing finger at the white haired boy.

Clearly frightened at the outburst, the boy took a step back, nevertheless he held out the bucket to its owner, the red whistle almost falling from his lips.

"Wha – Oh! My bucket!" Ichigo's eyes smiled at the familiar sight. He snatched it from the other boy. "Than –"

The bucket had made a rattling noise when he had taken it. Slightly afraid that the crab was going to be inside, Ichigo gazed down into it. Sitting at the bottom was not the crab, but a single, not too big and not too small stone. It wasn't spiky, but it wasn't perfectly smooth either. And much to Ichigo's delight, it didn't move on its own.

He looked disbelievingly over at the other boy. "You – you found this for me?"

Toot.

A vast grin spread on Ichigo's face. "Thanks! This is perfect! Where'd you find it?"

The boy with the whistle didn't make another sound, but Ichigo didn't care for he reached down into the bucket and pulled out the sto –

Jewel.

Ichigo stared at it. It wasn't a washed up stone! It looked like one of those jewels his mother wore around her neck! These things cost money! It was valuable! It was a gem! It was – it was –

It was treasure.

Ichigo continued to smile. He gazed over at the other boy and asked, hope written all over his face, "Do you like dragons?"

* * *

He liked dragons, he had never been to the beach before, and he had never built a sandcastle. Well, that was what Ichigo assumed the boy was telling him because, really, 'toot' was a little big vague. The only thing Ichigo was certain of was that his name wasn't 'toot' because despite being six years old the kid had the scariest glare ever. Really, he did.

But the kid was sweet. He was cute and shy and blushed nearly every time Ichigo spoke to him – oh, and it seems he was playing a constant game of follow the leader. At first Ichigo was a little bit unnerved at the fact that the boy stuck close to him but quickly he relaxed, shrugging it off as just six year old behaviour.

So what if the kid was a little bit weird? He was alright. And hey, he was helping to build what was going to be the greatest sandcastle in the world!

"No! No! You need more water! You can't stick it together dry; it won't work!"

After he actually got round to building it right that is.

White hair drooped in sadness and Ichigo felt a twinge of guilt at the sight. Maybe he shouldn't be so hard on the kid: making a sandcastle wasn't easy and he was only six.

"Why don't you go fetch more water?" Ichigo asked, trying to think of something for his new friend to do. A long, happy 'toot' was the reply and Ichigo watched, delighted, as the boy scrambled off his sandy bottom and grabbed the bucket, hurrying to fulfil his job.

It wasn't quite as fun as bossing around his sisters but… it'll do.

When the castle was about half finished (it was looking grand! It was as big as a bed and two towers were finished! Ichigo could just imagine a knight standing tall on top of one of them holding a gleaming silver sword with his noble steed watching him from below. Or maybe a damsel in distress, trapped on top of the tower calling for help! Or maybe even the sandcastle king himself with a golden crown and the heart of a lion! And below there would be a dragon guarding the treasure with a fiery breath and a piercing stare) Masaki wandered over, carrying a bottle of water.

"Ichigo!" she called, spotting her son sitting beside the blue spade. The eight year old stopped his work and turned to his mother.

"Hey mum, isn't it great! We've been working so hard!"

Masaki smiled, her bright hair covering one of her eyes, and she passed her son the bottle. "Drink up," she told him. "And what do you mean, 'we've'?"

Small hands unscrewed the bottle lid. "Someone's helping me. I don't actually know what his name is – he doesn't seem to talk."

The mother watched her son take thirsty gulps from the ice cold water. "Doesn't talk?" she asked, trying to keep her son from hearing her concern.

"Yeah," said Ichigo, putting the lid back on the bottle. "He has a little red whistle that hangs around his neck. He uses that."

"To communicate?"

"Yep." Ichigo nodded. He looked over to his left and said, "That's him there. The one with my bucket."

Masaki followed her son's directions and searched for the yellow bucket. She found it in the hands of a young boy collecting water from the sea.

"Do you know anything about him?" she then questioned her son.

Ichigo shrugged like a teenager. "He looks really lonely."

It wasn't the answer she had been hoping for, but the mother of three couldn't deny that the boy did look incredibly lonely. Where were his parents? Was he alone? If so, why? What was he doing here? The two Kurosakis watched the other pick up the bucket – with some difficulty – and heave it back over towards them. Masaki was just about to snap at her son for making the poor boy do that but Ichigo leapt to his feet and dashed over, the bottle in his hands hitting the sand softly with a 'thump'.

"Let me, let me," begged Ichigo, not giving the boy time to disagree, and he took the full bucket from the pale hands. "You shouldn't fill it up so high."

"Sorry."

Ichigo dropped the bucket, some of the water spilling over his shoes. "You talk!" he exclaimed, grabbing the boy's hand. "Come on, you can say hi to my mum."

Curious as to what was about to happen, Masaki remained quiet as her son dragged the other boy over. The child had striking white hair that stuck up in many different random angles, and he was clothed in simple black three quarter length shorts and a plain orange turtleneck shirt. Ironically enough (to Ichigo) he wore a long sleeved jacket over the top of that; white, with a red dragon spiralling down from the tip of the hood to the base. Upon closer inspection (and by that Masaki meant when the two boys were standing before her, mirror opposites of each other in both looks and personality) she noticed that the boy was little, and something about him made her heart reach out towards him.

"Mum! Mum! I heard him talk!" blurted her son, still holding the other's hand. Masaki's eyebrows rose in surprise and she beamed down at Ichigo's new friend.

"Hello. I'm Masaki."

Blush and fumble was the reply she got. However this didn't put her off. She knelt down so that she wasn't so intimidating, her son's eyes watching her every move.

"Where are your parents…?"

"Tōshirō," said the boy. "My name's Tōshirō."

Ichigo and Masaki broke out in identical smiles.

"And my parents are at home. I ran away."

Masaki frowned. "Why did you do that?"

However that appeared to be the last of Tōshirō's words for he used his free hand to put the whistle back into his mouth. He avoided eye contact with the woman before him and tugged on Ichigo's hand.

"Huh?" Ichigo said simply, turning his attention to the boy he was holding hands with. "You wanna continue the castle?"

Toot.

Masaki's heart melted. Her inner girly-girl squealed at the adorable sight before her and it was even cuter that Tōshirō seemed to have no idea just how loveable he was.

Ichigo was just about to be dragged off when Masaki held up her hand to halt all movements and said, "Ichigo, your father and I are going with the girls to find the ice cream van. We might be a little while but I'm sure you'll be alright here."

Ichigo nodded and stood proud. "Yes mum!" he said, not wanting to disappoint. When Masaki left them to their work, Ichigo turned on Tōshirō. "Why'd you never talk before?" His voice was slightly demanding, but the boy in question blushed.

Toot.

Ichigo couldn't help but smile. "That's all the answer I'm gonna get isn't it?"

Toot.

* * *

The serene quiescence of the two workers was not disturbed for some time after that. The two boys had leisurely fallen into a routine in their work, taking turns in fetching water from the sea. It was midday now and the sun was at its peak; the bottle of water had long been shared between their parched lips, and Ichigo now lifted himself to his feet, picking up the empty bucket as he did.

Tōshirō stopped the wall he was building and made to stand.

"Don't," Ichigo ordered. "It's my turn to fetch the water." And without waiting to see if Tōshirō had heeded his command he rushed down to the calm waves to collect what the ocean had to offer.

Seconds later there was a blaring screech from the whistle and Ichigo spun around to look upon something highly amusing. Tōshirō, whistle screaming in his mouth and eyes wide with fear, was running around in a panic: a crab was hanging off of one of his sleeves, its large pincers snapping ferociously. Tōshirō was trying ever so hard to fling the crab from his jacket but the little red animal was so afraid that it clung on tighter.

Ichigo sprinted over with the bucket. "Tōshirō, Tōshirō, calm," he soothed, letting the frightened boy crash into his stomach. As soon as he did Ichigo reached out and snatched the crab from his jacket and plopped it in the bucket. The whistle dropped from Tōshirō's mouth and he cried, fisting his arms into Ichigo's shirt as sobs shook his shoulders. Ichigo wrapped his free arm around Tōshirō and hugged him, copying what his mother had done many times before.

"It's alright. It's gone."

Tōshirō hugged him tighter, and Ichigo heard the crab rattling around in the bucket.

"It's alright," repeated Ichigo, not entirely sure what else he could do. "I'll protect you from the crab. Let's go back to building our sandcastle –"

– which was partly knocked down. Ichigo's jaw hit the floor. His sandcastle! What had happened to it?

"Sorry," mumbled Tōshirō, and light on the situation appeared. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Don't worry about it," said Ichigo, glaring down at the crab in the bucket with hatred. Bad crab! Bad crab! "As long as you're not hurt – my dad told me my name means 'to protect one thing' and I wanna protect you so – Hey!"

Tōshirō looked up at Ichigo as the brown eyes lit up with amazement and inspiration. "Ichi –?"

Ichigo dropped the bucket and pulled Tōshirō over to the ruins of the castle. He let the boy go and then pushed him gently to the ground. "Stay there! I'm gonna protect you – I'm gonna build a castle around you!"

With the dragon in the middle of the castle, Ichigo set to work.

* * *

**Everybody - yes, you too boys - has an inner girly-girl that squeals at something cute. And the whistle idea was just something little I added in :D Reviews are very welcome and I'm off to bed. Nighty-night!**

**Now has a sequel! (23/10/10)**


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